I caught a thief

I came home tonight from work quite tired, not so much because of work but because I mistakenly ended up in the wrong pair of shoes.  Proper shoes are incredibly important to me, so the fact my feet were not in them has beaten my poor ego considerably.  My poor feet were sore, but after walking through our front door, I had things I had to do first.  I ran a quick errand back out to the car to put some things inside that I knew Daddy would forget in the morning and my entry back inside revealed something disconcerting.  There was an opened donut box.

 

Now an opened donut box may not be relevant to you, but on Thursday late nights in my household, a donut box means something, and it's certainly not meant to be opened.  On Thursdays, I buy a donut for Bailey for Friday morning and set it in my computer chair because everyone knows donuts would be in a computer chair awaiting their demise.  It's a surprise of sorts, which isn't really much of a surprise since she expects it every Friday morning.  And back in the winter, I started this tradition in order to ensure I could sleep in on Friday mornings.  She'd have this donut treat, leave me alone so I could rest, then I'd wake up, feed her a real breakfast and we'd spend our day together.  She no longer keeps my reason true anymore though, since she no longer feels as though I need any extra time to sleep.

 

But I can't ruin tradition, even if I don't get my end of the bargain.  So tonight, just like any other Thursday night, I had the donut box and it was sitting on a large package I had brought home, an item for the ever-beloved birthday party extravaganza coming up quite soon.  And when it was opened, I snuck a look inside and saw there was no longer a donut.  There was only residue and I frantically turned on a light and searched for a not-so-good little canine of mine. 

 

And there it was.  The sprinkled chocolate donut, chocolate side down in the carpet,the dog beside it with a huge chunk of cake-like substance missing.  She was then put into her kennel as I was furious.  I was more furious that her action meant I had to make another trip out in the storm just for something most people would judge me for feeding to my child.  Daddy ended up waking up to my lecturing the dog and he put her out on the deck, despite my opinion.  And yeah, most people may think I didn't have to make that extra trip out, but Bailey had already mentioned during the day that tomorrow meant she'd have a donut.  She knows her days of the week.  Most importantly, she knows when she gets junk food.

 

The shoe thief has now turned to donuts and belongs in a jail cell even more.  And hopefully Bailey will never know the true tale of how her morning donut came to be.  Or maybe she should.  Perhaps she would appreciate it more.  Or just want to kill the dog.